A Day Without Rain
by MM8712
Summary: Nick has spent his whole life without actually seeing it. When a chance encounter with a man opens his eyes to what his life could have been had he chosen differently in his past. Will he be able to understand life with a wife and two children? AU NickxOC
1. Quiet

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything pertaining to CSI. I only own the characters Samantha, Annie, and Zoe. I don't own the song at the beginning...that belongs to the talented Racheal Yamagata.**

**A/N:** Hey guys. I know that I have two other stories to finish and stuff, but I kept getting writers block with Stolen Identity and I just haven't felt compelled to write anything for An End Has a Start. Every time I would sit and try to write for either of the two, this would keep trying to escape my mind. I hope you like it and please let me know what you think in a review! Thanks!

* * *

_And it'll be just as quiet_

_when I leave_

_as it was_

_when I first got here._

_I don't expect anything,_

_I don't expect anything..._

_Take care._

_I've been hurt before._

_Too much time spent_

_on closing doors._

_You may hate me,_

_but I'll remember to love you._

_Goodbye,_

_don't cry._

_You know why._

_And it'll be just as quiet_

_when I leave_

_as it was_

_when I first got here._

_I don't expect anything,_

_I don't expect anything..._

_All the waves of blame arrange as broken scenery,_

_As they steal your best memories away._

_What if I was someone different in your only history?_

_Would you feel the same_

_as I walk out the door?_

_Never to see your face again;_

_Never to see your face again._He stood in the doorway to the room; the door ajar

* * *

He stood in the doorway to the room; the door ajar. The light from the hallway glittered the floor of the room and the light from the moon shone through the window above her bed. She was sleeping and peaceful. She looked young, younger than her five years, and looked beautiful. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was deep and shallow. She had her right arm placed above her head while her left was hugging her doll.

He had created this beautiful little girl and yet he felt a twinge of regret; he had no memory of her birth. He had no memory of the wonderful years she had spent growing prior. He knew so little and yet so much about her. Her eyes were her mother's, her lips, her nose, even her beautiful blonde hair, all her mother's. But he knew, he knew that when she laughed, that smile was all his. Each time she looked at him that smile that he had seen reflected from his own face, his heart swelled. He momentarily stopped breathing and yet did not notice.

He knew how much she loved to draw. She always said she wanted to be just like Van Gogh. She always was coloring and lugging around her pencil box. He and his wife had given her the magnificent display of every colored pencil in the imagination last Christmas. He had missed the smile, the way her eyes lit up once the wrapping was gone and the present revealed. He knew in his heart that he would never get to witness that moment except through the lens of a video camera.

She loved to sing. Her voice wasn't that great, but she still loved singing. She would put on shows for her dolls in the privacy of her room, and demand that her performances not to be disturbed. She would wear the pink ballerina costume her mother had given to her and she would spin around her room like a ballerina, her long blonde hair floating behind her. Her eyes would close tight and she would hum a tune only she could hear while the world around her temporarily disappeared.

He wanted so desperately to cling to these memories, not knowing if tomorrow they would be gone. He wanted to go hug her and kiss her and tell her how much he loved her. He wanted to tell her he would always love her.

He knew he couldn't. He didn't want to disturb his Sleeping Beauty.

He quietly backed away and closed the door. He turned around and found the other door he was looking for. The bright pink name displayed beautifully on the door.

He pushed it open just as quietly as he had closed the other door. He walked in silently and approached the white wood crib. Inside he found a wonderful sleeping angel. _His_ angel. Her dark curly hair was strewn about and contrasted so differently from her sister's. He knew it was his hair.

She laid on her right side, facing him. She had her left thumb in her mouth and her other cuddled with her stuffed lamb. She was wearing those footsie pajamas, pink with cows jumping over moons on them. They had those anti-slip feet bottoms. She was still learning how to walk.

The moonlight that had lit his other daughter's face was absent from this one's, but she still looked just as beautiful.

Yet again his heart ached knowing he had missed so much of her life. He had missed her first steps, her first words, and her first beautiful laugh.

A tear leaked out of his eye as he knew that he would miss her future as well. All this would end soon and he would never see her face light up again when she smiled. He would never get to console her when she was upset. He would never get to see her big blue eyes staring at him again.

She was such an amazing person and had so much personality, he felt so glad to know that it was he who had created her.

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the mess of curls that claimed her head. She didn't stir and he knew she wouldn't.

He walked backwards toward the door of her bedroom, memorizing everything about that moment. The way the walls were painted pink and how the hard wood floor beneath him felt against his bare feet. He inhaled the smell of baby powder that scented the room.

He closed the door quietly and began to walk to the final room.

He pushed open the door and the sight that befell him was one he knew would stay with him no matter what happened.

In the large bed laid his wife; his beautiful wife. He had been so scared at first to call her that, but now he never wanted to call her anything else.

She laid on the right side of the bed; _her_ side. Her silky blonde hair looked like gold sparkling on the white pillow case. She was on her back with her left arm over her stomach. He knew she slept like that because she was used to holding his hand as he slept spooned behind her.

He walked over to a chair situated next to the bed and sat. He rested his head on his hands which were supported by his knees. His gaze never left her.

He had been stupid all those years ago. He knew that now. She was the half of him that had been missing in all his life. She was the puzzle piece that completed his heart.

Her skin was fair and unmarked, her lips were like blooming rose petals, soft and pliant. He nose was small and upturned and her cheeks were slightly puffy, making her appear younger than her 31 years. Her eyes were the color of the sky after a rain storm; gray with a tint of blue. Her neck was long and slender and he knew she giggled whenever he kissed or nuzzled her there.

He noticed her chest rise and fall as she breathed and for the first time in his life, he looked at a women's chest without sexual agenda behind it. He watched as it rose and then fell back down with each breath. It was ironic that all his life he had been taught that if a person was breathing, they were alive. He looked at her now and knew that she wasn't real. She was breathing, but all this was a fantasy. It was a fantasy that was going to end very soon. He had been living this life for the past five months and now it was all about to be ripped away from him. He didn't know when it would happen, but he knew it would. Would he remember any of this? Would he remember that night they had celebrated the Forth of July and Annie and Zoe had been in complete awe of the fireworks he had lit for them? Would he remember the night he had first made love to Samantha? Would he remember that day when Annie had finally trusted him enough to hug him and tell him she loved him? Would he remember feeling his masculinity being taken away the first time he had ever played Barbies with his little girls? Would he even remember the sound of Samantha's voice every time she told him she loved him?

He rose as thoughts of what he hoped he could remember drifted throughout his head. He pulled his shirt over his head and stepped out of his jeans. He pulled the fluffy comforter of his bed back and slipped under. He took Sam into his arms and she unconsciously rested her head against his chest, her hand moving to hold his that was wrapped around her shoulder. He leaned down and placed what could be his last kiss to her hair and finally drifted off to sleep.


	2. Road to Joy

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with CSI...or Bright Eyes.**

**A/N:** Hey sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out. I've had it written for a few days, but Fanfiction was being stupid and the doc editor was being weird so...yeah. I hope you like this chapter and please review to let me know what you think. The song in the beginning and in the title is Road to Joy by Bright Eyes.

* * *

_The sun came up with no conclusions_

_Flowers sleepin' in their beds_

_The city cemetery's hummin'_

_I'm wide awake it's morning._

_I have my drugs I have my woman_

_They keep away my loneliness._

_My parents, they have their religion_

_But sleep in separate houses_

_I read the body count out of the paper_

_And now it's written all over my face_

_No one ever plans to sleep out in the gutter_

_Sometimes that's just the most comfortable place_

_So I'm drinkin', breathin', writin', singin'_

_Every day I'm on the clock_

_My mind races with all my longings_

_But can't keep up with what I got._

_I hope I don't sound too ungrateful_

_Well, history gave modern man_

_A telephone to talk to strangers_

_A machine gun and a camera lens._

_So when you're asked to fight a war that's over nothing_

_It's best to join the side that's gonna win_

_No one's sure how all of this got started_

_But we're gonna make God damn certain how its gonna end._

_I could have been a famous singer_

_If I had some one else's voice_

_But failure's always sounded better_

_Let's fuck it up boys, make some noise!_

* * *

Nick rolled over slightly in his bed. The alarm had been blaring for about five minutes now, and it was too difficult to try sleeping with it on.

He had work that night and he really needed to get up and get ready. He throws the covers off his body and stands. He pulls his hands above his head and hears the familiar pop that accompanies him while he stretches.

Walking to his bathroom, he removes his boxer-briefs that he had slept in and throws them in the general direction of the laundry hamper.

The bathroom is chilly, like always, and is excruciatingly bright. He walks over to the shower and opens the glass door. He turns the water on and quickly sets it to right temperature.

The bathroom is quick to fog up and before too long the mirror is completely covered in steam. Nick is in the shower washing away the remnants of his previous day. He wasn't sure if he was washing away the disgust that his job brought to him on a daily basis or if he was washing away the life that he lived in hopes that something would change.

It wasn't that he didn't like his life, but it had just begun to become too routine. He would wake up at about 10 and start to get ready. He would shower, shave, get dressed in clothes that were appropriate for what he would be doing that day, make coffee, and eat something. Work would go by and he had adjusted himself to dealing with the harshness of what he had to witness everyday. He would come home and open a beer and watch some television to clear his head. Sometimes, if he knew he didn't have to work the next day, he would go to a bar and pick up a girl to take home in hopes that she could break up the monotony that was his life. He knew they were all fruitless conquests and that it was mean to lead them on to believe they were anything but. He just didn't believe that a bar was where he was going to find the future Mrs. Stokes. Not that he held hope that he would ever find her. He had resolved himself to believing that he was doomed to be a bachelor for all his life.

It did hurt having to come home to an empty house every evening. Having to listen to the quiet that taunted him with his loneliness. He supposed that was another reason he liked to keep the television on constantly. It at least added some sort of sound to the house besides his own. He didn't even have a pet. He had briefly considered getting a dog for company, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sustain a dog for long. He worked a lot, and he went through bouts of depression from the terrible things that had occurred to him.

He had had dogs all his life. Growing up with his parents on the ranch, there were lots of dogs throughout the years. His mother loved animals and whenever she could, she would bring an abandoned dog home to live with them. When he had gotten out of college he had had a dog. It was a golden retriever named Shane. He had christened the dog after one of his favorite western films. He wondered briefly if Shane was still alive. The dog had belonged to him and his then girlfriend while they lived together. This was back in Dallas and they had met in college. When he had been offered the opportunity to work for the Las Vegas crime lab, he had not hesitated. He knew it was wrong to just leave her, but he knew he couldn't pass up an opportunity such as this one. She had cried, but ultimately she had understood. She couldn't move with him as her job was there in Dallas. He remembered her asking him if they were ever going to see each other again, and he had told her what she wanted to hear. He told her of course they would, but deep in his heart he wasn't so sure. He did really love her, but he was young and the promise of working at one of the best crime labs in the country was just too alluring. He had let her keep Shane.

Nick got out of the shower and dried off. He shook his head and sighed. He hadn't thought of Samantha in a long time. He knew he could ask his parents about what she was doing, possibly go hold up his promise to her, but there just seemed to be too much water under the bridge. He just hoped that wherever she was and whatever she was doing that she was happy. She had probably married and had children, like normal people do.

* * *

He sipped his coffee as he sat in the break room waiting for Grissom to arrive with his assignment for the night.

He sat up straighter when the man in question could be seen walking toward the break room through the glass walls of the crime lab.

"Nick, I need you on a 406 out in Summerlin."

"A B & E, Gris? Come on isn't there something else I could do?" Nick groaned. If there was one thing he truly hated, it was these.

"I'm sorry, Nick. Warrick and Greg are still working on that multiple homicide and Catherine is on vacation. You're all I got." He reached forward handing Nick the assignment sheet.

Nick took the sheet in his hand and stared at the address. Why was it the cases you didn't want always had to end up being in some remote location? This address was almost out to Red Rock. He supposed that's why someone would choose that location to burglarize someone. It was remote, quiet, and one of the very few non-gated communities in Summerlin.

* * *

As he arrived at the scene he noticed one officer waiting for him. He turned the ignition off and picked up his kit from the passenger side.

The officer assured him that the scene was clear and that he would be outside if he needed anything. Nick nodded his thanks and quickly stepped into the house.

He knew that the main action had happened in an upstairs room of the house, so he quickly walked toward the staircase that would lead him there. When he got to the top, he noticed about six doors down the long hall, each one open. He sighed and began to look into each one. Finally at the end of the hall, nearest the backyard, he found the room he was looking for.

He peered around and couldn't quite understand what there was to steal in this room. It looked like a storage room. He supposed he should have asked the officer outside what had been taken.

He sighed and turned back around to go find the cop. When he turned around, however, he was stopped dead in his tracks. There was a man standing in the entrance to the door with a smile lighting up his face. He was tall but lean. He had black hair and fair skin. Nick would've thought him a ghost if he believed in that sort of thing.

The man reached his hand out, and Nick realized that the man wanted to shake hands. Nick didn't move, he had been in a situation before where someone had shown up at scene when the officer wasn't around, and that hadn't ended too well.

"Nick!" The man yelled happily as he gazed at the frightened CSI.

Nick stood completely still and wondered how this man knew his name. He knew his last name was printed on his vest, but his first name was not commonly given out. He knew he had never met this man in his life.

"Yeah, I suppose I would be scared too if I were you. I mean you don't even know who I am." He chuckled.

The man stepped further into the room and closed the door behind him. Nick looked down to his side at his gun, making sure it was there. If the opportunity presented itself to where he should have to use it, he wanted to be ready.

"Please, sit." The man gestured behind Nick.

Nick looked behind him, wondering what the man was referring to for him to sit upon. There was nothing in the room besides a bunch of old boxes. When he turned around, however, he noticed a chair that he hadn't before.

The man laughed again at the confused and shocked look on Nick's face. "Please, sit and I'll explain everything."

Nick didn't understand why, but he was doing exactly what the man had asked him. For a reason unbeknownst to him, he felt in his gut that this man would not hurt him.

"My name is Charlie and I have been watching you for a while, Nick." The man answered to Nick's inquisitive eyes.

Nick felt a shudder run up his spine and he began to plead that this wasn't another Nigel Crane.

"You lead an interesting life, Nick." Charlie told him as he too took a seat in a chair that Nick swore hadn't been in the room before either.

"Thanks." Nick croaked out. Why was he thanking the man for stalking him? He didn't understand anything in that moment.

"I mean you live all by yourself, you hardly ever have company over, unless it suits your sexual needs at the time. You eat just the necessary amount to get you by each passing day, and you drink yourself to sleep. Man, you don't even have a dog." Charlie laughed shamefully as if that was the most absurd thing he had ever heard.

Nick didn't understand why one moment Charlie seemed to be complimenting him and the next he was mocking his existence. Before Nick could counter, Charlie spoke again.

"Shane sure misses you."

Nick snapped his eyes up to Charlie and froze mid-sentence. How did this man know about a dog he had had while he still lived in Dallas almost ten years ago?

"Who are you?" Nick asked.

"Consider me a guardian angel of sorts." Charlie replied. He laughed when Nick looked even more confused.

"I've been watching you for a while Nick. I got assigned to you after the boss Man upstairs wasn't exactly happy with how you had begun to live your life." Charlie told him.

"Do you mean God?" Nick asked in wonder.

"How happy are you with your life Nick?" Charlie asked him, ignoring Nick's last question.

Nick didn't know how to answer that question.

"That's what I thought." Charlie replied, already knowing Nick's answer.

"I'm here because He believes you need an eye opener." Charlie continued.

"You should feel lucky because He doesn't do this often. You are going to be given a chance to see what your life would be like if you had made one change in your past. Tomorrow morning when you wake up you'll live the life that you could've had, and you will see how great life can be again." Charlie told him.

Charlie was always shocked that people didn't live every moment of life to the fullest.

"Is this a joke?" Nick asked. This had to be the biggest load of bull shit he had ever heard. This guy had obviously watched _A Christmas Carol_ one too many times.

"No, Nick, this isn't a joke." Charlie told him. He was about to say something else when he heard the cop stationed outside yell for Nick.

Nick took his opportunity and ran to the door and pulled it open. He yelled for the officer to come upstairs quickly and then turned back to make sure the crazy man didn't escape. When he looked back behind him, however, Charlie was nowhere to be seen.

Nick began to search the room, in hope that he would be hiding somewhere. It was no use. There were so few places to hide and he was positive that Charlie had not escaped when his back was turned.

* * *

As Nick got home that morning, he was exhausted. He had had one of the weirdest nights of his life. He didn't even go to the fridge for his ritual beer, instead making a beeline for his bedroom. He stripped down to his boxers and climbed under the covers. Before he finally drifted off, he had to laugh at the absurdity of the evening he had just had.


End file.
